Scarred
by realmsoffreedom
Summary: AU. Spencer, Aria, Hanna, and Emily meet at NYU- though they never expected it would end this way. Their pasts haunt their every step, looming behind with each breath they take. When the four Liars meet their other halves- Toby, Ezra, Caleb, and Paige, can they be saved? Can they be saved from the horrors they've been put through, and their nightmares of the future?
1. Prologue

**This is my first story on this new account, and my first story for the Pretty Little Liars fandom. That show is my guilty pleasure, so I've developed quite an interesting storyline for this AU fanfic, to say the very least. Yes, it is AU, there is no A, Alison is a completely different character, and none of the Liars know each other. They went to the same high school, but never actually clicked. This story also deals with anorexia, bulimia, self-harm, depression, and suicide. If any of this triggers you, stop reading ****_now._**

**I'm posting the prologue tonight, but I'm not sure when the first chapter will be up. I hope to have to up sometime in the next week, but midterms begin on the 24****th****, so studying has been crazy. Worst comes to worst, it'll be up February 2****nd****, when all my exams are over. Anyway, I hope this prologue will tide you all over. Enjoy.**

* * *

I stare at the large, ominous building looming upon me. It's huge, surrounded by other buildings. Sidewalks connected the buildings, and there are crevices and pathways all around the structure. I should get used to it- after all, this is my school for the next four years.

NYU. I never imagined myself going to college here. I've always wanted to go to UPenn, or generally college in New York. Getting out of Pennsylvania seemed unfitting, at least in my opinion.

But then one thing led to another, and I just couldn't bring myself to stay in my hometown. There are so many bad memories; some many things have occurred- most of which I wish I could forget. I wish I could go back in time- that's how badly I want to erase the memories.

A soft breeze blows through the skies, ruffling my sweater. Sneaking a glance around, I make sure no one is within eyeshot, before pulling down my left sleeve discreetly. If it rides up, I'm doomed. My other half is hidden underneath that sleeve.

My scars.

The self-inflicted wounds that got me through high school lie under my sleeve, the white scars looking quite hideous. Fresh cuts lie amongst them, drops of blood sneaking out occasionally. That wouldn't be good either. Staining my sleeve would only make it more noticeable.

I pull myself out of my thoughts, and heft my bookbag higher on my shoulder, as I make my way into the main entrance. The entrance hall is huge- large banisters, a glossy floor, the hall lined with wooden doors. I don't think this is where I'm supposed to be…I should be looking for my dormitory, seeking out my roommate, even.

Turning out and descending the steps of that building, I walk into the one next to it, praying that I've found my bearings. As I gaze at the interior, I realize I am right. This is where dormitories are located, and now it's just a matter of finding my room.

I walk down the hall, glancing at every door I pass. 801, 803 805, ah, there it is. 807. I'm supposed to be rooming with a girl named Aria Montgomery. I hope she's not the kind of person that pries into everyone's business, because that would mean I'd be royally screwed.

Bracing myself, I push open the door, stepping into the room. I look around, taking in the interior. It's a simple college dorm. Two beds, two nightstands, dressers, double everything. There's a girl kneeling beside the bed on the right, folding clothes into piles.

Her hair is dark brown, pulled into a ponytail that swings behind her. A few locks hang astray, framing the sides of her face. She's wearing a thin white shirt that hangs loosely off her small frame. She's paired the shirt with skinny jeans, and a gold necklace, with a pendant in the shape of a pen.

The door creaked when I walked in, and I watch, as her eyes meet mine. Immediately, she stands, brushes her hands off on her jeans, and walks over to me. A hand is extended to me, and I shake it firmly, as she gives me a small smile.

"I'm Aria. Aria Montgomery. I assume you are Spencer?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm Spencer Hastings."

She flashes another smile. "Then I guess we're roommates. I took the bed on the right, I hope you don't mind… By the way, the university dropped off your stuff; it's all next to the bed. So yeah, I guess that's it, I'm just going to be unpacking, you can do whatever."

She seems really nervous, but I don't want to push it. Aria also seems quiet and sweet, two things I'd look for in a friend. The mere thought makes my heart skip- I honestly assumed I would never find anyone to talk to here. I'm just glad my roommate is nice- seems nice, for that matter.

* * *

Intelligence radiates off of Spencer.

That's my first thought, after a comfortable silence falls over the room. Everything about her is school-like- from her perfectly combed hair, to the simple sweater and jeans she wears. She seems quite smart- and I have to wonder why she didn't decide to go to a school such as Harvard, Princeton, or Yale.

It would be rude to ask, wouldn't it? I mean, I barely know her, and she barely knows me. I would like to get to know her better, though. She seems like an interesting person. A good friend, even. I just wonder- she looked very apprehensive, and I wonder what she's hiding. Every person has secrets.

I have mine. I have a lot of them, in fact. My biggest secret is probably my body. I hate my body. That's putting it in blunt terms. I don't know when it all stated, but I'm really unsatisfied with the way I look. My thighs are huge, my stomach bulges, and the flab on my arms just needs to _go._

I knew something needed to be done about it- around February, my senior year of high school, I decided to stop eating. Since then, I don't think I've eaten a proper meal without purging it. I eat when I'm around company- but excuse myself to the bathroom and make myself throw everything up right after.

My diet…it's something no one knows about. It's not the kind of thing I like to talk about- to flaunt around, acting like one of those condescending bitches who broadcast to the entire world- how much weight she's lost, what she's done to lose it, any of that crap. That's not me.

Truth is, something…something happened…and now, I…I hate myself so much. I can't even put what happened into words- that's how far I want to put it out of my mind. I don't think I'll be able to fully forget it. Not until the day I die.

I rise to my feet, watching Spencer closely. She's sitting on her bed, her suitcases untouched. Her fingers move rapidly, her eyes focused on her iPhone's screen. Her face is unreadable, though her eyes are narrowed in concentration.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, I begin filling the drawers in my dresser, placing clothes in neat piles. I hang my shirts in the small closet beside them, leaving half empty for Spencer to take.

After I've finished unpacking, I go back to my bed, lowering myself down. I cringe when the bed sinks under my weight, pulling out my phone. I scroll through old text messages, old photos, tears filling my eyes.

* * *

"So, you're Hanna, right?"

I look up, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. The other girl in the room- I assume she's my roommate- is looking up at me quizzically. I nod to her, affirming her theory. Her gaze travels to the floor, and I begin to lose myself in my thoughts again.

I never…I never expected to be here. After all, I'm not the brightest bulb in the box. I'm more of the 'dumb blonde' type. I don't think it's because of my hair color- I probably could've tried harder.

I'm here because my mother slept with the headmaster. It sounds sick and twisted, that's because it _is._ My parents- well, my mom, to be specific- has always wanted better than what she had, for me. My parents are divorced, and my mother has full custody of me. I see my father occasionally, but not often- I particularly hate his bitch of a wife and my stepsister, so I refuse to go visit him.

Truthfully? I really have a passion for art. The art of design, you could say. I'm an art major, and I really do like experimenting and using my hands to create different things. Fashion is a particular point of interest, because of how versatile the art is. Fashion can be anything- no rules or regulations, and that's why I love it.

I guess you could also say I'm pretty insecure. I haven't had the easiest life- what do you expect, my mom had _sex_ with the school's headmaster so I could come here. I'm screwed up- I know that. But I had a friend in Pennsylvania- her name was Alison. And she was my best friend.

But the thing about Ali- she could make you feel amazing at times, but she could also hurt you in ways you couldn't even fathom. Ali was the one who pointed out to me how fat I'd become. Food used to be a source of comfort for me- dealing with my parents' divorce, the stress of life, trying to find my way throughout high school- it was not easy.

Ali's the reason I purge every meal I eat. She opened my eyes- made me see how truly _fat _I'd become. She forced me to throw up- told me it was good for me, that I was only helping myself. After a while, I couldn't help but believe her. So, the purging began.

And there I was- drifting away from the world. I guess it's the lifestyle I'm accustomed to. I don't talk much, just think until my head explodes, and then I just _sob_. Because my life is spiraling around me, and I have _no _control.

I _hate _not being in control. It hurts to watch people make decisions for me. But my mother is persistent. So, I guess I'll have to live with it. Because I don't foresee myself gaining control anytime soon.

* * *

The girl that just walked into our room seems so…complicated. And that's putting it lightly. She's dressed in designer clothes, a Louis Vuitton handbag perched on her shoulder, and high heels adorning her feet, but the look in her eyes confuses me. Her eyes are dark- dark with sadness, I assume. She doesn't look happy- and I wonder why. If she were rich enough to have all these designer clothes and purses and shoes, why _wouldn't _she be happy? It all seems very foreign to me.

I'm very good at reading people. It deviates my attention from the problems revolving around my life. I don't like to think about the problems I have to deal with. It's highly depressing, and I just don't feel like causing myself any more emotional agony. It's just too hard.

I sweep my hair into a ponytail, the brown locks flowing down my back, before lying down on my bed. Staring at the wall, my thoughts consume me. I zone out, and for a few moments, I find myself somewhere else.

I'm lesbian. I like girls, not guys. Truthfully, I don't see the problem. Love is love, right? It doesn't matter if I'm attracted to females. Only, it _does _matter. To my mother, and to most of the kids at my high school.

To say I was bullied is an understatement. I was _tortured._ School was hell, and I remember waiting for the final bell to ring, so I could go home and release all the pain I'd felt that day, in a form of hurting myself. Yes, I self-harm. I'm not proud of it, and I wish I didn't, but I do it.

A razor has become my best friend, because I don't have any other way of coping. I don't have any other way to release stress. I just slide the blade across my stomach, until all I can see is red, and all I can feel is relief.

I've had one girlfriend. But she left me because she couldn't take the hate, the bullying, and the stress. She left me, and she broke my heart. She broke _me, _for that matter. I wasn't the same after that.

My mother is homophobic. In her eyes, I'm a disgrace to her perfect family. And since my dad is off in Afghanistan, fighting for our country, it's my mom that I live with. She hates me. Fucking hates me. And it hurts so much, because she's always been the mother every kid wanted to have- until I came out.

She doesn't look at me the same anymore. No one does. I'm just the lesbian freak. But I'm not a freak. I'm a human being, with feelings and emotions, which I have a right to let out. I may not be doing it in the healthiest way, but it's _something_.

Oh yeah, and I swim. I'm here on a swimming scholarship, which probably proves I'm pretty good in the water. I feel like myself when I'm in the water, and it makes me feel like I can do anything. I don't feel like I have to hide myself for judging glances. I swim- I swim my heart out, and I'm pretty fast. It's my escape, you could say. Just like cutting.

I may be broken, but there is no way in _hell_ that I am giving up yet. Not without a fight.

* * *

**So, I'd love to know what you thought of the prologue. Things you loved, things you hated? Things you'd like to see in the story? I can work with ideas, if any of you have some. Keep in mind- Spoby, Ezria, Haleb, and Paily are endgame. When this story comes to a close, all four couples will be very happy with each other, and that won't change. That being said, please leave me your thoughts. I don't know when the first chapter will be posted; it depends on how far ahead I am. Right now, I'm working on chapter 3, so we'll see. Thanks for reading.**

**-Neha**


	2. Chapter 1

**This will be the last update for a while, I'm afraid. I haven't gotten very far ahead in the story, because I've been studying for midterms like crazy. It's really not fun x.x But, I can promise that a new chapter will be out the 29th, which is the last day of exams. That being said, enjoy the chapter. **

* * *

Words are a fucking wonderful illusion. They can form sentences, paragraphs, thoughts, ideas, anything, really. Words are the basis of human life, because what we say impacts our emotions and feelings. What we say or what is said to us impacts decisions. Words can cause a person to kill themselves. Words are probably the most powerful thing ever to exist to mankind. Though stab wounds can heal, and bones will mend, the scars of words left on the heart can never be erased.

I learned the hard way. Originally, I was a careless fool who said anything that came to mind. My sarcasm and quick-witted remarks cost me. That fucking dumb blonde stereotype was applicable the moment I uttered a single sentence. Because I never knew what the hell I was saying. I said it for the sake of saying it, and Alison watched. She watched with that pretty little grin on her face, comforting me afterward with empty words. What I didn't know, was that she laughed. She laughed at my stupidity, my ignorance, in private, and I didn't even realize it.

And then I found out what was really happening. And that's when everything fell apart. That's when the stares turned to laughs, when I shoved my fingers down my throat much harder. When I saw blood in the toilet and felt a sick sense of pleasure. I'm sick. I'm fucking sick and fucking twisted. It's no fucking secret how much of a mess I am.

"Han, you ready to go?"

Emily and I have become pretty okay friends. She knows the fake side of me- the side that I pretend to be. I pretend to be someone I know everyone will like. And Em's nice. She's really sweet and we get along well. Cliché, right? I know our friendship'll deepen.

"Coming!"

I grab my back, smooth my hair down, and exit the bathroom, joining Emily in our room. She's dressed in black jeans and a cream colored top, which she's paired with a silver necklace and matching earrings.

"What do you have first?"

I pull up my schedule on my phone, glance over the screen. "Intro to Computer Programming, apparently." Computers? I groan inwardly. Mixing me with computers is like mixing oil with water. We just don't get along.

Emily nods, reading her own schedule. "I've got Calculus- that's gonna be a barrel of laughs." Her last few words are laced with sarcasm, and I hold back a smirk.

"Pre-Calc was the class I slept through senior year," I lie. I tried hard in that class. And ended up with a C. It hurt to see my efforts wasted, so I don't like bringing it up. Lying is so much easier.

"We have time to stop for lunch together, right?" I ask. She nods, typing out a text message, before looking up.

"Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria round 12?"

"Sounds good." I flash her a forced smile, as we enter the main building. I turn left, and she turns right.

As I walk down the hallway, I scan the numbers on the doors. I've never had a very good sense of direction. Alison always put me down for it- she called me an idiotic blonde bitch when we were alone, and it really fucking hurt, because I honestly thought she was a true friend.

My thoughts have taken over for the second time, and I grumble, pushing them to back of my mind, and finally entering the right classroom. It doesn't look like the professor's here yet, so I slide into a seat and place my bag on the floor next to me. My eyes scan the large room- the teacher's desk, the computer at every place, it all looks high-tech.

"Is this seat taken?"

I look up, and almost bolt.

Staring back at me is another human-being, someone is actually talking to me.

* * *

Walking into the computer class gives me a sense of excitement. Computers and technology are my subject of excel, so I know I'll do great in this class. However, a thin blonde girl sitting alone in a corner catches my eye. Her eyes are clouded- and she doesn't look that happy. _I wonder if there's something wrong._

Summoning up all my courage, I stride over to her, and drop into the chair next to hers. Her eyes burn into my body, I can feel her icy glare raking me. She's staring at me, and I'm wondering whether something's wrong.

"I'm Caleb," I whisper. "What's your name?"

Panicked eyes lock with mine, and I feel a pang of alarm in my chest. There's something seriously wrong here. "H-Hanna," she mumbles. Her voice is barely audible, and she lets her eyes drop to the desk, refusing to acknowledge me.

"Well Hanna," I whisper. "I'm not here to torture you. You looked lonely, so I decided to come over here and see if you wanted some company during class. So my question is, /are/ you?"

"Fine. You can go now. You probably have a reputation to uphold." Her words are soft, emotionless and empty. Another pang of alarm runs through me, and I stare at her. Does she really think I'm doing this because I _have_ to? Something is wrong with this picture, and I'm going to find out what it is.

"No, I actually don't," I reply truthfully. "I live in California, and my friends here are all really cool guys that wouldn't care if you and I become friends. Believe me, I'm doing this because I want to."

She sighs. "Caleb, once you find out who I really am, you'll leave me in the dust like everyone else. That's why I've stopped trying to make friends. Once they find out my secrets, they leave. And I just can't get hurt again. I'm sorry."

* * *

"Alright Ari, I'll see you after this class, okay? We can walk to History together," I murmur. Aria and I have become really fast friends. We don't know everything about each other yet, but we've come up with when we can meet, since we're taking some of the same classes. She's majoring in English, and I'm majoring in Law, however.

English is what she has now, I'm going to Calculus. Flashing Aria a smile, I walk into my math classroom.

The room is huge. The professor's desk is at the front, but her chair is empty. Behind it is a blackboard, and in front are rows of seats. Personally, I prefer to sit in the front center. That way, I can hear the lecture as well as get noticed by the teacher. It always worked for me in grade school.

I slide into an empty seat, and take out a fresh notebook and pen. A ruffling noise invades my ears, and I look to my left. My eyes widen, as I look over the guy that's just appeared next to me.

He's tall and thin, with messy brown hair and the most mesmerizing blue eyes. A smile graces his features, as he pulls out a notebook and drops it onto the table, before dropping down into the chair next to me.

I push the thoughts of cuteness from my head- it's too early to get into relationships. I'm here to learn, not to be enticed by cute college guys.

"Hey, I hope you don't mind me sitting here," the guy says. His voice is smooth, yet a bit hoarse.

"Not at all. I'm Spencer," I reply.

"Toby," he mutters. "So, what are you majoring in?"

"Law," I sigh. "My parents didn't really give me much of a choice."

He rolls his eyes. "Parents can be assholes like that. Believe me, mine aren't the most understanding either."

"Oh? What's your major?" There's something about him…he's piqued my interest.

"Architecture." He grins sheepishly. "I didn't really listen to my dad. I've always wanted to be a carpenter."

I hold back a laugh. "So, Calculus?"

He groans. "Hell. I'm gonna fail this class. Math is like a foreign language to me."

"I could tutor you, if you'd like?" I offer. "Math's my best subject."

A hopeful light gleams in his light blue orbs. "You'd do that? Seriously?"

I nod. "Sure." Toby seems like an interesting person. Three dimensional, for starters. I don't like two dimensional people. Dull, flat, not interesting at all. Like characters in a book- people have many sides to them. They hide things, and their thoughts can often be the most interesting things ever. I want to become friends with him.

"…Toby?"

A new voice invades my ears, and I turn, my eyes widening. A darker-skinned girl is standing in front of Toby, her eyes wide. She has dark brown curly hair, and kind eyes. _Is she…his girlfriend…? _I kick myself inwardly for not anticipating his, craning my neck to see Toby's reaction.

"Emily!"

He stands and wraps his arms around her gently, running his fingers through her hair.

"What're you doing here?!" He exclaims. "You said you were goin' to Stanford!"

Emily chuckles. "I was, but I decided to come to New York instead. Jess was going to Stanford, and I couldn't…"

Toby nods, hugging her closer. When they finally pull away, he looks to me. "Em, this is Spencer. I just met her a while ago- she's gonna help me with Calc."

Emily flashes me a smile. "It's good to meet you, Spencer. I'm Emily Fields."

"Same to you," I reply tightly.

"Oh, Spence, Em's lesbian. Thought you should know, she's like my little sister. We grew up together, and graduated from the same high school," Toby informs me. I can feel my cheeks flush, as a ball of embarrassment rolls in my stomach. _She likes girls, not guys. I can't believe I got so jealous._

Emily smiles nervously. "I hope you're okay with it- me being lesbian, I mean. I know a lot of homophobic people, and I wouldn't mind if you're one."

I wave my hand. "Of course not. I support gays, lesbians, bisexual, and transgender people. If you like girls, so be it. Just be happy."

She sighs in relief. "God, I wish more people were like you and Toby."

"Here, there's an empty seat next to me, if you want," I offer. Emily glances at Toby, before nodding, and pushing past him to slide in next to me. She places her books down, and looks at me gratefully.

"Thank you. I was worried that Toby would be all I'd have here."

"Are you implying I'm not enough?" Toby sticks his nose in the air haughtily.

"Oh hush, you," Emily replies. "Sit down, class is about to start."

* * *

"Hey, I'm new here, could you tell me where English 1 is?"

I look away from the screen of my phone. A girl stands in front of me, looking quite nervous. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she's wearing a baggy grey shirt with black jeans. The first thought that comes to mind is how beautiful she is. She looks radiant, and I almost am at a loss for words.

"Sure," I reply. "That's where I'm headed as well. You mind telling me your name?"

"Aria," she murmurs.

I nod. "I'm Ezra. First year?"

She gives a slight nod. "What year are you?"

"Second," I reply. "English major."

"Me too!" Her eyes seem to light up, and my heart swells. She's just so damn beautiful, and I can't believe how happy I just made her.

"Well Aria, I'll take you to your English class- it's the one I took last year, but maybe you could meet me for coffee sometime? I'd like to get to know you better," I suggest nervously. I don't want to rush into anything, but I don't want to let her get away either.

"Sure, Ezra," She whispers. "Can I see your phone for a second?"

I pull it out and unlock it, before handing it over. When she hands it back a few moments later, I see her name in my contacts list, along with her cell phone number.

"I'm free tomorrow, I have a break after History, which I have right after English, so…" She trails off, staring at the flats she's wearing.

"That sounds good. I'll check my schedule, and text you, okay?"

Her eyes shine again. "That sounds awesome."

* * *

**So Hanna, Spencer, and Aria have met their future boyfriends. Emily and Paige will meet soon, I'm writing a scene for them right now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter- thanks for reading, and please leave me your thoughts. **

**-Neha**


	3. Chapter 2

**Here it is- the long awaited chapter 2. I sincerely apologize for the long wait- writer's block was honestly a bitch. This is a long chapter, however, so I consider it made up to you guys. Anyway note- I don't take Calculus- I'm only in Algebra 2, and I'm only a freshman, so if I got the Calculus wrong, don't shoot me. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Hey, Han, how was the computer class?"

Hanna looks at me with dark eyes. "I met a guy there- Caleb, I think was his name. And…well, he came up to me and instigated a conversation. He asked if I was alright…and no one has really ever asked me something like that before…it kinda felt like he cared…"

"That's wonderful, Hanna!" I exclaim softly. "Did you get his number? Maybe you two will become great friends."

She nods slightly. "He gave it to me- said I should text if I wanna talk."

I grin. "Text him, then. Having a guy best friend is amazing. Toby is the most overprotective guy ever, but I love him like a brother, and I know he'll do whatever he can to make sure I'm okay."

She blushes. "It looked like…like he liked me. Like, romantically…"

My grin grows. "That's even better! He sounds like a great guy, Han!"

She heaves a sigh. "I don't know if I'm ready to let someone in, Em. I don't know if I _can_."

* * *

"So, what are you having trouble with?"

Spencer looks at me quizzically, and I sigh, flipping the pages of my notebook, until I land on tonight's homework. The list of problems looks highly confusing and quite time-consuming, which irritates me greatly.

"Everything," I grumble.

She chuckles. "Alright. Let's start with the first one. dy divided by dx. So basically, that is the derivative of y. The derivative is the sensitivity of the change from a quantity to another quantity. So, it measures the immediate rate of change. Back to the problem- the equation is y equals x squared. So, taking the derivative of both sides dy/dx equals 2x. Do you kinda get it?"

Truly, it still looks pretty foreign, but I understand a little, and she looks so hopeful, that I just don't want to disappoint her. So I nod. "Yeah, I kinda do. Thank you, Spence."

She grins. "No problem, Toby. Now, let's look at the next one. Try it yourself."

Karma's a bitch.

* * *

"So, you grew up in Pennsylvania?"

I nod to Ezra, swirling the straw around in my coffee. "Yeah, Rosewood, to be specific. I've lived there all my life. What about you?"

He chuckles. "New York native. I've wanted to come to NYU since middle school, and plus, it's close to my mother."

"What about your father…?"

His gaze drops to the table, eyes darkening. "He left when I was 10. Never came back."

My eyes widen. "Oh god, I'm sorry…" I swallow hard. "My parents are divorced…my dad cheated on my mom…"

He shakes his head. "God, I'm sorry."

"It's alright- my father's an ass anyway. My younger brother lives with my mom- he's a senior this year."

"My brother's your age. He decided to go to UCLA," Ezra chuckles. "That idiot's all about "the ladies"."

I smile. Ezra's pretty funny. And he understands my love for writing. He's an English major too, so we can relate pretty well. I really like his ideas- what he's said has given me an entirely new perspective on my writing.

Ezra clears his throat. "I like you, Aria. You seem like a great person, and I'd love to talk some more. Would you like to go to lunch sometime?"

I stare at him.

Am I really ready for this?

* * *

My phone taunts me. Its screen gleams in the sunlight, tempting me with every second. Caleb gave me his number, and it's enticing me to call him. But I don't know if I want to. My phone just has a fucking mind of it's own, I guess.

But I don't want to call him. Because if I do, I'll sound weak and vulnerable. Two of the things Alison warned me against. I've memorized her words. _Don't show weakness, Hanna. It's the worst thing you can do in front of a guy. When they see you weak, they'll think you're needy and will always need protection. Guys hate that. You cannot show weakness. I hope that isn't too hard for you, pig._

Her words hurt. But they also built the wall I have in place around me. The impermeable wall. I'm broken. But no one knows it. I puke in private. I hate myself when no one's looking. Because in reality, all I am is a bitch that deserves to die.

I stride into a campus bathroom, locking myself in one of the stalls. Sighing, I lower myself down in front of the toilet, and shove my fingers down my throat. And I think everyone knows what happens next.

* * *

"Oops, sorry! Didn't see you there!"

I look up at the person that bumped into me, and my eyes widen. The girl that stands in front of me is a tall brunette, with long hair and dark brown eyes. She looks concerned, and I swallow, forcing up words. "It's alright, no harm done."

She smiles and holds out a hand. "I'm Paige."

"Emily," I reply, shaking her hand. "I'm new here."

"Same," she murmurs. "Here on a swimming scholarship, but still finding my way around." I can't help noticing her immediate beauty. It's like she's radiant, and I force myself not to blush. I'm such a slut- checking out the girl who accidentally bumped into me? Really? Boy, am I slutting it up.

I snap back into reality, giving her a bright smile. She doesn't look threatening, and I really would like to get to know her better- I don't date people just for sex. "Same! I'm on a swimming scholarship too!"

She breathes out a sigh of relief, looking at me warmly. "Thank god. I was afraid I would be the only freshman on the team."

"So, wanna walk to class together?" I ask timidly.

She nods eagerly. "Of course. Maybe we won't get lost, if we're together."

* * *

"He's really sweet, and he's a second-year, and I don't know what to do, Spence!"

I hold back a laugh at Aria's frantic tone. Apparently, she met a second-year English major named Ezra, and they had coffee, and he basically asked her out. She came home conflicted, so I don't know exactly what she told him, but I'm almost positive it wasn't yes, but it wasn't no, either.

I glance at her. "Try it out. See where it goes. If things are moving too fast, you can tell him to slow it down a little. He seems like a great guy, Ari. And if you don't tell him something, he'll get away, and then your chances of getting him back won't be as high. Just give it a go, what's the worst that could happen?"

Aria's eyes shift to the left, a sudden fear overtaking her. She looks at me hesitantly, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "I'm afraid of being hurt…" I barely catch that soft 'again' that trails off her sentence, and my eyes widen._ She's been hurt before? What happened? Who hurt her?_

My mind flickers to the incident that's making _me _scared to form a relationship with a guy again. My old boyfriend...Andrew...he was abusive. Emotionally, physically, even...sexually. He may've forced me into sexual intercourse once or twice. He's the main reason why I cut- the main reason I'm scared of putting myself out there- of dating again. I've been tortured in the past, and I can't let it happen again.

Aria stares at me. "If I tell you, Spence...promise me...you won't tell _anyone_." Her voice is hard and cold, eyes burning into mine.

I return her gaze with a slight nod. "I promise. I will not tell a soul."

She nods, dropping her gaze to the bed again. "I…I was...raped…"

* * *

I stare at the girl in front of me, anxiously awaiting Spencer's reaction. _Does she think I'm disgusting and dirty? Everyone else seems to- wouldn't be surprised if she joined them. _She's staring back at me, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to take that as a positive or a negative reaction, so I just wait.

"Oh, god…" Spencer chokes out. "I hoped that wasn't it…"

I just look at her in confusion. She shakes her head. "I assumed it was something like this…since, something similar happened to me…I know the signs…" She swallows nervously. "Same conditions for what I'm about to tell you." She takes a deep breath, locking her gaze with mine. "I had a boyfriend…his name was Andrew… And he…he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but he was also really abusive… He hurt me…physically, emotionally…even sexually…"

* * *

**Thoughts? Please leave me some reviews. I'll post the next chapter after I get five reviews on this one. Thank you all so much. **

**-Neha**


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